“I never stopped loving you.”

- The Best of Me, coming to theaters this Friday

Chapter 3

Talia Walker

Laura had been giving me the stink eye ever since I woke up yesterday and this morning. When I came back two nights ago, she was sound asleep, a trail of drool falling down her cheek. She refrained from talking to me all day, which was so bizarre Mamma had pulled me aside and questioned me about it.

“Did you and Laura fight?”

“No,” I replied. Mamma wasn’t satisfied; therefore she made me sit next to her in the taxi on the way to the Teatro Amazonas, which was our touristic destination for the day.

Throughout the cab ride, my older sister refused to speak to me, disregarding my numerous attempts to talk to her. I doubted that my walk last night was the cause of her silent treatment towards me, it was surely another thing.

Even Luca, who was oblivious to everything that didn’t relate to him, had noticed the undeniable tension.

“Are you fighting with her?” he asked, tugging onto my sleeve in the taxi. His attempt at being discreet was feeble, every passenger heard.

“No, why would we?” assured Laura, patting his knee.

I turned towards her, “Then why haven’t you said one word to me since yesterday?”

“I’m tired, that’s all,” she sighed. At Mamma, Dad, Luca and I’s suspicious looks, she repeated: “I’m okay! It’s baby hormones.”

At this, Dad turned around immediately. No matter how involved he liked to be in the family, the mention of female hormones of any sort made him too uncomfortable around any of us. Luca was too young to understand how the female brain really functioned, but he sided with Dad. When any of the women in the family were having a “shark attack” or a “bloody waterfall”, he refrained from talking to us at all.

The taxi stopped and we all got out, hurrying to find a guide. About five of them were standing in the entrance, conversing with other tourists. I analyzed each of them; old man, middle-aged man with an overly big smile, uptight middle-aged cat lady, smiling fifty-year old woman and finally, a smiling girl who seemed close enough to my own age.

Without discussion, my family and I walked towards her. She turned towards us and gave us a big grin, which with her bright blonde curls, reminded me of bright sunshine.

“Olá! Inglês ou Português?” she asked in a chirpy voice. Italian or not, I had heard enough spanish to vaguely place the words in portuguese as well.

“English,” replied my dad, holding out his hand to shake. She mumbled a greeting and did the same to the rest of my family. She wrote our names on a clipboard.

The guide, Celia, was going to be leaving to start the tour in five minutes. My parents, Luca and Laura sat on a bench during the wait. I stood by Celia’s side, talking to her. She was cheerful and full of alacrity, which brought me joy. I lived with the statement that happiness was contagious.

“I graduated from a Tourism school a few months ago, I’m totally new here,” she said, hints of a Portuguese accent dripping in her words. “I absolutely love this job, so far.”

“That’s great! You’ve got everything figured out for now,” I said.

“Yes,” added a voice that belonged to neither Celia nor I, “Absolutely. This seems like a very fun job.”

An arm wa sput around my shoulder, pulling me close to the person. Matthew gave Celia a charming smile, before turning to me. I felt my heart fall out of its chest.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “Exploring the ancient beauty of Brazil as you are, my dear Talia.”

“My parents will see you! Oh God,” I rushed, shrugging his arm off. He frowned a little, but stayed close to me. Hopefully Dad wouldn’t over react.

“Oh hey, it’s you!” cried out Brad, appearing next to me.

Chad ruffled his younger brother’s hair, “So that’s why you wanted to go to the museum. I wanted to go to the beach and flirt with half-nude ladies, but you made me give this up so that you can talk to Miss Italy again.”

“The things we do for you,” sighed Brad.

The whole time, I was trying to catch Celia’s eye and ask when the tour would start. Apparently, when I snuck a peek on her clipboard, the guys signed up before my family had. Their last name was Cole.

“Atenção, a turnê vai começar pelas famílias Cole, Walker e Kayoki agora! Por favor, siga-me.” She shouted. “Attention, the tour will start for the Cole, Walker and Kayoki families now! Please follow me!”

I backed away from the boys and joined my family, along with a Chinese couple. Dad was trying to make conversation with them, but since he spoke very few words in Chinese and his accent was barely comprehensible, they smiled politely and walked away.

“Was I that horrible?” murmured Dad to Mamma as she held his hand in hers.

She smiled, “Yes, mi amor. But it’s okay. Languages aren’t your strong point, especially Italian and Chinese.”

“But I try!” he retorted, appalled.

Luca put a hand on his shoulder, “You talking different languages just isn’t meant to be. Just admit it, the whole world around you already has.”

“Luca!” cried out Mamma scoldingly, “Don’t be rude to your father.”

My brother shrugged, but we all knew that she agreed with him.

I stayed as far as possible from the Cole boys, because the risk of my parents figuring out my so-called friendship with them was too high and dangerous. Matthew gave me looks from afar and whenever I looked at his brothers, they were giving eachother or me a heinous grimace.

Celia spoke slowly in English, since the Kayoki’s first language wasn’t english. We took long walks around the esteemed theatre and admired the beauty of the ancient architecture.

Once we had arrived to the Opera stage of the theatre, we had been invited to sit down as Celia played an old opera song that had been apparently sung in here. Matthew sat next to me, while the rest of my family sat on my other side. Dad, however, was so concentrated in what Celia was saying that I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I spoke to him.

“You hurt my feelings, mademoiselle. I am hurt. You hurt me.” he mumbled, only loud enough so that I could hear him. He adopted a french accent, amplifying the emotion in his words.

“I apologize, Mr. Cole. I can’t risk getting caught by my dad.”

“I insist on my heartbroken feelings,” he said, hazel eyes almost digging through my soul for a moment. His charisma practically floated off him.

I shrugged, “Can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

“You can.”

“How?” I whispered, just as the singer reached her highest singing point. I cringed and blocked out the sound from my ears with my fingers.

“Simple. Meet me again tonight,” he said, standing up and following his brothers.

Laura pinched my arm lightly, “Who was that?”

“Who was who?” I replied, praying I would get out of this unscathed.

Her eyes narrowed, “You know who I mean.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“The guy!”

“Which one? The Chinese fella?”

“Talia!” she stressed, “I’m serious. The blonde Brit.”

“Oh, him?” I pretended to attempt to look at him.

“Yeah, him. Why were you talking to him?”

“Was I?”

“Talia, I swear—”

“Laura, I swear you’re losing your marbles,” I walked away form her, hopping to stay behind Celia.

I could hear Laura grumbling at me in a mix of Italian and English and my mom threatening her to get a better behavior.

-

“Hi again,” I greeted, finding Matthew in the same bench as last night. This time, I had come prepared with a thick, soft sweater of Laura’s. It was a maternity sweater, therefore it was gigantic on me.

“You came!” he exclaimed, patting the space next to him.

I tugged onto the sleeves, “My presence is that important to you?”

“Of course,” he smiled, “How else could I have mended the hole you created in my poor heart?”

“By charming some other girl,” I replied.

He scrunched up his face, “You percieve me as a flirt, don’t you?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Did you know,” he straightened his position and folded his leg underneath the other, “That when I was fifteen, I asked my longtime crush out by baking her a pie? That was my definition of flirting.”

“What did she say?” I chuckled..

“She was allergic to the nuts I decorated the pie with,” he stated sadly. “Her face got big and red, she never spoke to me again.”

“Aw,” I said, “Your fifteen year old self must have been devastated.”

“Oh, he was. But this was to prove you that I’ve never been a flirt. I just talk to people and if they like me, they answer.”

“Or you make stupid bets with them and force them to meet you,” I said.

He shook his hair, laughing. “You’re the one who voluntarily came. You’re falling for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Matt.”

“You’re giving me a nickname, see?”

“That doesn’t mean that we’re friends.”

“Or does it?”

“No.”

“Ouch, my heart is broken twice in one day. This is a record,” he clutched the place where his heart was dramatically.

The smile on my face refused to go away. Whenever I stopped smiling, he would say something cheesy and cute enough to make the joy appear on my face once more.

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart by saying the truth,” I teased.

He gasped, “Then what are we? Are we nothing?”

We.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “What do you think?”

Actually, traditionally, this would have been my second date with him. I just avoided thinking in that way, because I was desperately fighting my blossoming feelings for him. The war of my emotions was feeble and weak, I was losing—big-time.

“I think I like you more than I should,” he said, giving me a heart-melting smile.

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

Matthew suddenly frowned and clutched onto his leg. “I think I’ve lost all sense in my leg.”

“You’re applying pressure on it, what did you expect?”

He stood up and his eyes widened, he wobbled on one foot. His arms flailed, on the search of something to hold onto. He stumbled back and fell into the river.

I was up on my feet instantly, on my knees, leaning over the space separating the water and the ground. There was no sign of Matthew in the water, which frankly scared me to the bone.

“Matthew?!” I shouted loudly, praying that he would resurface and be okay again.

His head bobbed over the water and he screamed: “I can’t swim!”

Thinking fast, I took off my hoodie and dived in the water, ignoring the chill of the freezing water. Turning my legs in circles to stay above the water, I looked for Matthew. The search for him made me lose all feel of my body; the temperature didn’t get to me.

I found him and swam to him as fast as I could hold up his body with mine. Coughing, his eyes met mine and he grinned a bit too excitedly for someone who almost drowned.

“You can swim, can’t you?” I managed to say, feeling anger and frustration get pent up in my veins.

His eyes glinted, “I wanted to see if you cared.”

“I hate you,” I spat, backing away from him.

Matthew grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him, “Please, stay.”

“I’ll freeze to death.”

“If you get out, yes. The more you stay in the water, the more you’ll be warm.”

He had a point. I stared at him for a full thirty seconds and couldn’t restrain myself anymore. I laughed. Looking at him caused me to laugh, freely. People often said that you could cry your heart out, but instead, I laughed my heart out. Matthew joined in, ignoring my randomness.

“What are we laughing about?” he inquired, once I had quieted down.

“I don’t even know. Everything.”

“I like laughing with you about everything, then.”

Our eyes met and I had to take deep breaths to help my freezing lungs. The moment was perfect, the moon shone upon the river with beauty. I was certain that there were fish in the water, but I couldn’t really care. Matthew’s hair stuck to his forehead and he pushed it back, making him look like even better.

“I jumped in because you hurt me by not admitting that you like me too,” he said, almost in a whisper.

I shook my head, “Stupid. You could have killed yourself.”

“Impossible. I had a beautiful Italian jump in and rescue me.”

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“I’ll stop when you stop being so beautiful.”

Oh my God.

I laughed despite myself, “Stop, Matthew!”

“Stop it yourself, Talia!” he exclaimed in the same tone.

Before I knew it, he was inches away form me. I blinked, just to realize this wasn’t some kind of dream.

“I want to kiss you,” he announced. “But I won’t. I’ll wait.”

“Alright,” was all I could answer him.

He leaned close to my face and put his lips to my cheek, lingering there for a moment. My breath caught up in my throat. He let go, and grinned, looking like a madman.

“Let’s get out now and freeze together.”

Once we had gotten out, I regretted my decision. The air worsened the case and I was sure to be sick the next morning. My dry hoodie had kept only me warm. Even though Matthew pretended to be warm, the purple tint in his lips and the chattering of his hands proved the contrary.

I put my arms around him, holding onto him tightly. Concentrating onto the idea of keeping him warm, I tried to push out the feelings. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his head in the crook of my neck.

“You smell like spring,” he commented.

“You smell like fish.”

When he stopped shaking, I relaxed my arms, ready to let go. He kept his hold onto me.

“Matthew, I have to go.”

“I don’t want to let go.”

Then don’t, I thought.

“You have to. My sister might wake up and look for me,” I retorted instead.

If Laura saw me coming in completely drenched from head to toe, she would have a heart attack and bombard me with endless questions.

He sighed mournfully, “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I stood up, watching him. “What makes you think I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Because I think you enjoy these late night moments as much as I do.”

I did, I really did